November 11, Stories Of An Age Gone Past
by Flicker-j.sH
Summary: A look into the mysterious past of the infamous Mi6 Agent, November 11. Read through his adventures as an agent, his change into a contracter, even his role in Heaven's Gate War. Rated Teen, for some action and mature themes. Will include: November 11 (duh) Oreille, Mao, Decade, Amber, Hei, Pai/Bai/Xing, and others
1. The Infamous Agent 011

"Why are we here again?"

The blonde man walked leisurely through a large field. He looked at the rows of tobacco leaves in disgust. "And why does it have to be a bloody tobacco field?"

Another man in a dark suit looked up at the sky. "I thought we were going to be heading home now that the trafficking case is done. I don't know what else we are going to do in Brazil." The man in the suit pulled out a cigar, lit it quickly and started puffing on it.

"You know, second hand smoke is even-"

"Shut it November, I've heard that sermon more times than I care to remember. Let's just keep our eyes open for-"

The man suddenly stopped. A bright light filled the sky as stars started falling, slowly at first, then more and more often. One came streaking across the sky, almost overheard. The blonde man fell to his face, his arms covering his head. The fallen meteor slammed into a village about a mile from the pair. The ground shuddered with the impact. The blond man looked up from the ground.

"What the hell was that?"

The man in the black suit looked up again, visibly shaken. More stars were streaking across the sky, looking disturbingly unlike meteors. Patches of starless sky were now appearing

"What is going on? Are you seeing this? Are those the… the stars?" The blond man fell back on his butt, staring with awe up at the sky.

The other man was in just as much awe, his cigar dropped from his open mouth. "It-it's happening, just like she said it would. I thought it was all a hoax…" He quickly grabbed his phone and punched in a number. "Hello, yes sir it is happening. Security code? Yes, ok, five five alpha seven Charlie, code name June reporting in… how's that for protocol? Now about the sky falling around us." The man paused to listen. The blond man had shifted his stare towards his partner, a confused look on his face. Another flash of light lit up the field as a gas station on the edge of town erupted into flames.

"JUNE! WHAT IS GOING ON?" The blond man shouted, reaching for the sidearm at his waist. June looked over at him, the phone still pressed up against his ear.

"I'd sit down, or rather get down if I were you." June crouched down in the field. "No not you. I have another agent with me, remember?" He looked back, "I mean it man, get down. There is a big one coming."

By now, the sky had grown void of stars. A single bright light was shining, and rapidly becoming brighter. It grew to a blinding intensity. The blond man shut his eyes, but the light was still bright, even through his eyelids. Suddenly a spine shuddering _Thump_ sent a vibration that overwhelmed all of his senses. He curled up into a ball, his eyes shut tight.

The warmth of the rising sun peaked through the tobacco plants, the light shining bright into the closed eyes of the two men. Their limp bodies started to slowly move. June let out a long groan, trying to rise to his feet with all the dignity that he could manage. He looked over at the other agent, still lying flat on the hard dirt.

"Get up November, we've got work to do."

A small Brazilian girl woke from her sleep. What a night, she had barely slept a wink last night due to that bright light, whatever that was. She yawned quietly, it must have been more Government Men in their scary floating car. Yes, the one with the big spinner on top, they would often fly over with a big bright light. Daddy had always said that they were looking for bad little girls and boys. She giggled at the thought, she used to believe that old lie. With another yawn, she got up slowly, and walked quietly to the door. Golden sun light poured in as she blinked rapidly in the brightness. Suddenly her eyes went wide. A small whimper escaped her lips as she gazed at the scene in front of her. The small village was half burned, with blackened skeleton building and crumbled walls throughout.

"Momma?" She said quietly, then found her voice and shrieked like a banshee. :MMMAAAAMMMAAAA! MAAAMAAA! MAAAAMAAA!" She collapsed at the door way, falling to her knees with tears leaking past her closed eye lids. As she broke down into sobs, she opened her eyes. There was a faint sound to her left, a sound like the sound she heard every Easter at the old cathedral the sound of bells, of piano, of the wooden wind chimes that were outside her house. She paused, her sadness forgotten at the moment. She started walking, almost as in a daze, seeking for the source of the mysterious noise that was filling her head.

She stumbled through fields, and then over rocks until she reached an area by the village stream, blood dripped from the lacerations on her hands, those rocks had been much sharper than she had thought. Somewhere in her mind, she remembered visiting here often, usually with the other children of the village, sometimes alone. They were dead now, at least a large number were. The fire had to be massive to destroy that much of the town. There was no fire department to combat the blaze, and the sleepiness of the night would have only added to the chaos. Chance of survival was low. She stood stunned for a second, unsure at why she was having these thoughts, and then started walking again. The other children were not her concern anymore. She crawled over a rock and gazed at the river. No longer was the thin winding river, a large object had impacted right on the river, leaving a large circular hole, now filled with water. The girl stared at the pool of water, her eyes suddenly becoming dimmer in colour.

Tokyo, Japan

The sound of sirens filled the night sky. They had started during the day, right when that meteor struck. Now that the sun was down, the strange dark sky was something to behold. An elderly woman strolled down the street, oblivious to the sirens and panic surrounding. She gazed up at the sky, feeling an odd feeling. It had been so long since she had felt it. Her amber eyes glinted in the light of streetlamp. She had made it. A small bright light had started shining in the sky. It was not by itself for long though, soon there were other small lights, twinkling into existence. The elder woman reached into her purse and pulled out an outdated cell phone. She punched in a number and brought it to her ear.

"Code name February, code Charlie Foxtrot Zulu one three Bravo. Yes, I know, it's begun."

Two years later

"Agent Zero Eleven!" A man in a dark suit called out, running down the hall of the busy building. The blond man down the hall glanced over his shoulder, his hand discreetly reaching into his suit pocket.

"Are you talking to me?" The blond man said, feinting ignorance. "My name is Charles, Charles Windser. You must have mistaken me for-"

The other man pulled out a large silver handgun, flipped the safety off and fired, but Agent Eleven was already moving. As soon as the pistol had reflected even the slightest bit of light, Agent Eleven had dived to the left, smashing through a glass wall into an office. The bullet missed, smashing into a window down the hallway. Agent Eleven peaked up from the solid mahogany desk in the luxuriously decorated office. His much smaller handgun was up and ready, firing a two quick shots, one that struck the man's shoulder, the other diving straight into his chest. There was a split second of pure silence, and then all hell broke loose. Office employees started screaming, running and a few simply hunched down behind something. At the same time, a door to Agent Eleven's left was smashed down. He turned, training his handgun on the source of the noise. His eyes grew large as he realized what it was, and then he emptied the rest of his magazine at the heavily armed men that were running in. One fell, a bullet hole in his face. Another stopped dead, pushed back by a trio of rounds slamming into his bulletproof vest. The other men pushed passed them, training their sub-machine guns on the lone agent. They opened fire with a wave of metal slamming into the large desk. Agent Eleven took a quick breath, pulled out a small ball, pushed in a small circular shape on it and flung it over the desk towards the men. The small metallic ball hit the ground and rolled right in front of them, and then suddenly shot out a cloud of gas, quickly enveloping the men. Agent Eleven bolted; arms over his face as he smashed through another glass wall. He slid past a few very surprised office workers and barreled towards the break room. With a quick move he opened the fridge and snatched out a small bag labelled TOFU, then threw the microwave down from the cabinet it was perched on. Behind the microwave there was another handgun and a small combat pouch.

The streets of London were quiet now. A lone blond lady strolled down the street. The sudden sound of a cellphone broke the relative calm atmosphere.

"Hello? Yes, I am aware of the operation…I can be there in 5 minutes." She quickly flagged down a taxi. The driver smiled, then stared with his mouth open as she pulled out a small revolver.

"Get out." The man quickly opened the door and ran. The woman jumped in, taking just enough time to throw her seat belt on and move the seat forward. Then she slammed the car into first, grimacing at the harsh smell of rubber as the aged car accelerated quickly down the road. A quick tug of the emergency brake brought the old veteran of a taxi down a small back alley. The lady already had her phone out.

"Decade? Yes it's me, and we have a snag in the operation. Agent Eleven has been made; I'd say the mission is over unless he can pull something fantastic out of his ass." She paused, nearly clipping a shiny luxury car. The harsh horn blared out. The woman ignored it; continuing to break the speed limit as the taxi swerved through the sparse London road, well, relatively sparse when compared to most of the time.

"Are there any contractors there?"

In a quiet office, Decade held the phone to his ear, "Yes we believe that they have already recruited one at least, maybe more. Yes, I know he is not trained to deal with them, I don't think he has even heard more than lunchtime gossip about them. We have to get him out now, or leave him to die. I guess it all depends on how fast you can get over there."

A small cloud of smoke trailed behind the taxi as it flew around a corner, and it definitely was not from the squealing tires. The blond lady sniffed gingerly, smelling the burnt oil that overwhelmed the overall smell of burnt rubber and stale cab. The next intersection brought her within touching distance of a red Double Decker bus. She gulped back a scream as the bus laid on the horn.

"Easy there, Ricardo won't be happy if you don't make it home tonight." She muttered to herself. "Zult! Sacrebleu!" The taxi barreled down a small alleyway, whizzing past a pair of very drunk Englishmen.

Silence had filled the floor. Shattered glass crunched under the heavy boots of the security guards. Automatic weapons swept across the shattered remains of the office. Amid the helmeted men, a single man in a black suit stood among them, looking relatively frail in comparison despite his authoritative look. The men starting searching through the debris; knocking desks over and smashing through office doors.

Small shriek came from a small brunette woman, pulled from her hiding space under a desk. The guard, realizing that she was not his target, let her go and continued sweeping the floor.

"Hey boss! Come here!" A guard shouted enthusiastically. A window in the lunchroom had been smashed, with a small metal cord attacked to the refrigerator, leading out the window. He peaked out the window, looking down. There was a microwave on the other end of the cord. Shards of glass were also strewed on the ledge of the window on the same level as the microwave. The suited man walked calmly to the window, glanced down before pulling out his phone.

"He's down two floors from here, probably came through the window." The man looked at the floor. His eyes suddenly went red, a blue glow surrounding him. Suddenly a blinding white light shone in front of him. The other men hastily shielded their eyes. As the light faded, a ragged hole was left in the floor. The man quickly grabbed a nearby keyboard, slamming it over his head, snapping it in half. With a stoic look he hastily dropped down the hole. A small pause followed as the other men glanced at each other. It only lasted a second though as they moved forward and dropped, one by one, through the hole onto the floor below.

Agent Eleven typed fiercely at the computer in front of him, hoping that the men had bought his ploy. After grabbing what he needed from the break room he had tied the microwave to the fridge using his utility cord, conveniently stored in the TOFU bag. Then he threw it through the window. It fell for a second before running out of cord and swinging into the window two floors down. Then he quickly scrambled out out the window, avoiding the shattered glass, and started climbing. Two floors up and he could slide a window open and quietly slip in to the dark lit room. He had picked the perfect place, aiming straight for his target, the abandoned part of the building, closed for "Repair". MI6 knew better though, and this corporation's research into the Gates was very illegal here in Great Britain, but also very interesting to the British Government. Agent Eleven's eyes scanned the screen as information started downloading, his small microchip transmitting all information automatically to the MI6 database, rather than storing the information on itself. This would insure the mission's success, even if it went south for Agent Eleven personally. He grimaced at the thought.

Thump. A small muted sound made Agent Eleven whip his head around, aiming his pistol at the source, the long staircase leading up to the room. He quickly flipped the monitor screen off. With a black marker, he then scribbled over the small power light on the computer's tower, leaving it to all appearances to be off. Scuttling behind another desk, he peaked out. The small footsteps continued as a small man walked up. His large spectacles made his eyes look even bigger and more worried than humanly possible. He glanced around before heading to a computer. Agent Eleven gave a silent breath of relief that it was not the same computer that he had used. The sharp noise of rapid typing filled the silence. Agent Eleven sat there, silent. All he had to do is wait until the download was complete, and then either sneak past the nerdy fellow, to the freedom of a mission well done, and hopefully a glass of scotch on a warm beach.

The nice dream was erupted by a small double beep. It could have been a trumpet. The flash drive had finished downloading and transmitting. The gentle beep was just loud enough to catch the other man's ear. He paused typing, slowly looking around. The chair squeaked as he started to get up, then slowly started walking around the room. Agent Eleven gulped, knowing that he had to act quickly. The man had wandered over to Agent Eleven's computer. Bending over, he flipped the monitor on. Then his eyes grew wide, not at the DOWNLOAD COMPLETE notification on the screen, but rather the arm around his neck. Agent Eleven held him in a choke hold for a few seconds. It was cutting off the blood flow, rather than the oxygen, that caused unconsciousness. The man went limp as Agent Eleven slowly lowered him, arm still around his neck. Then he placed his knee on the man's back, one hand across the front of his face, grabbing on the man's chin, the other on the back of the man's head. With a vicious twist and a sharp crack, Agent Eleven let the man drop the few extra centimeters to the floor. There was no such thing as leaving a witness unconscious on a mission like this, not when he could wake up at any time and blow his cover, probably ending up killing him. No, this was not a warm, huggy feeling job.

The employees had all been herded into one area. Elevators had been locked down. Two entire floors below the suspected floor, as well as the floors between it and the original floor had also been swept. The suited man looked unemotionally at a group of men as they arrived empty handed, just like all the others. He swiftly pulled his small phone, a small clear credit card shaped device. A few touches was all it took. He brought the phone up to his ear.

"Boss, yes it's Johnson. No sign of him." The man stood straight-faced, obviously oblivious to the stream of profanities that came from the phone. "I do not think that is necessary sir."

On the other end of the phone, a man was absolutely losing it in his private office. These damn contractors! Why wouldn't they just act like humans? He hurled a coffee cup across the room.

"Boss. The research lab is right above us, is it not? The contractor looked up at the ceiling above him. "If the infiltrator merlye diverted us to the lower floors, he could find a route upward toward the computer servers without us actively tracking him."

The man sat silently in his chair. He didn't know what would be worse, having this man be right, or having the infiltrator escape. "Go check it out."

The group of men had rapidly made it to the floor, energized by the thought of redeeming themselves. The door was needlessly broken down, it's unlocked nature ignored. Filled with confidence, flashlight beams led the way in front of courageous men, ready to fight and even die for their cause. Their chests were puffed out as they sprinted up the stairs, and flooded into the small room above. Safeties were off as their sub-machine guns aimed at any inclination of a person. Their actions were for naught however. The room was empty, well, almost empty. The body of a thin man was stuffed under a desk.

A blond man strolled down the noisy British streets. A ratty taxi barreled past him, losing control and skidding into a nearby bench. A blond woman jumped out, frantic and yet filled with disbelief.

"Agent Eleven?! Wait! What? H-how?"

Agent Eleven looped his arm through hers and strolled down the road, pulling her along.

"Calm down and keep moving. You made quite a mess there."

They strolled through a quiet park. The blond woman seemed to have calmed down a little.

"Did you see him? The contractor?"

Agent Eleven was quiet. "No. I was not aware there was one there. I do wish that they would tell me these things. As for that vacation I was promised though. I think there should be an extension, considering I survived a contractor… apparently."

The blond woman looked at him, not knowing if he was joking or not. "Shouldn't we be driving somewhere? Preferably very fast?"

He just sighed. "If you had your company's secrets stolen in an instant, would you not suspect the car driving down the road, driving very fast?

They continued walking. He continued, "I would, what I would not suspect would be the cute couple walking through the romantic park." The woman broke out in a red blush.

The two of them continued walking down the deserted walkway.

"Now about that extra time off…"

"I'm not your boss, Agent Eleven, and how the hell did you get out of there?"

**Closing statements**

**Thank you all for reading. Hopefully this is just one chapter of many. I have plans to continue the story, hopefully do some background on other characters. This will have to wait of course. I would appreciate a review, I would love suggestions, especially some ideas about some of the other character's pasts.**

**I would really appreciate these ideas for the future chapters.**

**Updated, small typos were fixed**


	2. The Reunion

The MI6 office was disturbingly quiet. A man and an elderly woman were sitting across from each other at a long wooden table. Everyone else in the room had been ushered out quietly, and then the room was swept for any listening devices or bugs. A single man walked in, his dark suit devoid of a single dirt mark. He stood quietly, glancing around the room.

"There are no specters here, no dolls are listening in." He said, rather deadpan. Before taking a seat.

"Thank you Agent June." The man said quiet; then looked over to the old woman. "Agent February? You can call in your agent."

The woman picked up her phone, and sent a quick text message, "In."

A blond man strolled into the room, his white shirt looking more like a vacation outfit than clothes for work. He crossed his arms and spoke, "I was told that there would be some time off. The fact that a contractor could have killed me makes me believe that this time off should be extended, rather than shortened. Decade, what is this?"

The man, Decade, put a hand on his own forehead. "I have enough of a headache, Agent Eleven."

June gave a small look. "Agent Eleven? Are you related to Double Oh Seven by a chance? Either way, you seem to have had a few promotions." There was a barely noticeable sarcastic note in his voice.

This made Agent Eleven stop dead. His eyes were wide as he recognized his partner from two years ago. Suddenly his mind was racing. This had to not be a normal assignment. Had June told all that had happened that horrible night? He paused to take a calming breath.

"You seem different, Agent June. Maybe you found a proper work attitude." He looked at the man. He really did seem different. The little bit of mischief in his eyes was gone, as was his typical cigar. Even his lazy smile was gone. The suit was still there, with its strange ability to repel any sign of dirt.

"Easy there boys." The lady said with a smile. Agent Eleven did not recognize her. "Agent Eleven, or should I say November. " She smiled slyly.

That made Agent Eleven snap his head towards her. He had been working under that codename two years ago, when the meteor struck. He had spent his starting years at MI6 working under that alias. The past year however, he had really shone, pulling off mission after mission under the alias of Agent Eleven. He didn't think anyone even would remember that old codename. Suddenly, it made sense. This old lady was February. The old lady that seemed breaths away from death, he was sure she would be dead by now. He squinted at her, she seemed younger than then.

"Ah so you do remember me." She was still smiling. "It would seem you have made a name for yourself here, I thought you maybe had forgotten about your old supervisor."

His face was a cold mask. "How did you know?"

Her face changed expressions, now a curious look. "Know what? Who you are? That information is not classified to me. That seems like a rather stupid question."

His head shook barely. "How did you know it would happen? You made June and I stay for another day. The mission was done." His face was a murderous.

That brought a sober look to her face. "That would be the reason you are here right now. I believe I should debrief you, but I also need to know what happened that night. I have heard June's side of the story, but I would guess that you know another side." She looked at him, straight in his eyes.

"A long time ago, there was a book written. A book of prophecy and mystery. No, it was not a Bible, or a Quran, or a Talmud, it was not written that long ago." She paused to smile innocently at her joke. "It was written about 40 years ago, it predicted many things. One of which was the Gates." She paused for effect.

Agent Eleven was definitely affected. He paused, trying to consider this in his mind. They had known it was going to happen? Why didn't they send more than two men? Just imagine the lives that could have been saved. Agent Eleven thought of the soulless boy he had seen, devoid of any emotions. He thought of the girl-

He shuddered visibly. February noticed. "I could not have sent anymore people there." This made him look up. "I had to fight just to get MI6 to let you both stay. You see, these Memories of the Future, or the Mikata Documents as they are called, we published in the midst of a Fantasy Novel. No one really took it serious, only a few. The same year that the Meteors struck, Intelligence Agencies all around the world were sent copies of the book, most had the section highlighted, some had every other page torn out except that part. Still, it was hardly a creditable source." She paused and looked at Decade.

"She's right, there was nothing special about the book, it looked like just another doomsday novel. What was very interesting was how exactly we got the books. There were sent to the heads of each country's Intelligence Agencies, like February said, to their private homes." He took a breath. "One was sent to our director, to his private beach home where he was on vacation."

February cut in, "No one took it seriously. Then it happened. The gates, the sky, contractors, and dolls. Everything. I guess you have not totally been read in on all of that either, have you?"

Agent Eleven looked at her. "The Gates? I was there when one appeared. The sky? I saw it falling just like everyone else. Contractors-" He shuddered. "I have seen them at work too. What are these dolls you are talking about?

Decade pulled out his phone. "Send in March."

A young teenager walked in. He looked Brazilian, and extremely familiar to Agent Eleven. Suddenly he knew why. He was the boy from the Gate. His eyes looked up.

"I remember you." The boy said quietly. Agent Eleven took a step back. Even June had a small look of discomfort on his face. The boy did not notice.

"I see that you know him already then, what about this contractor you talked about?" February asked pryingly. Her eyes had a strange look, like she already know the answer, she just wanted him to say it. Agent Eleven gulped, not wanting to bring back those memories.

"It was a girl from the local village. She was there at the Gate when we came. By then, villagers had come to the point as well, and had surrounded a small crater. The meteor had hid a river, so the crater had turned into a small lake." June had spoken, sparing Agent Eleven from having to speak.

Decade gave him a small look. "I thought you didn't know about it. You said you did not see the contractor." All eyes turned to June.

"At the time, knowledge like this could have gotten me killed. Ignorance is bliss, and the less you thought I knew, the better." June paused for a second. "It was before I became one as well. Now there is no reason to hold back information."

Decade spoke again. "Very well, but I would prefer to hear it from Agent Eleven."

"Your need to cause him discomfort is irrational, as well as useless. I would hope that a high ranked MI6 Agent would be above pettiness like that." June paused. "Now do you want to hear the rest, or not."

February put an arm on Decade, "Carry on June." Decade sat there fuming at June's comment.

"I thought contractors were supposed to be obedient creatures." He muttered to himself.

"We are rational. There are times when the rational thing to do is to obey. Do not think that you know everything about me. I also know my worth to MI6 and to Agent February in particular." He looked straight at February. "I will continue now."

"There was a girl at the crater. We knew her from the time we spent in the village. She was a nice girl, she gave us bread when we first arrived in Brazil. She walked into the water. We were far enough away that the villagers did not see us. We watched as the girl swam to the bottom of the crater, and then something happened. There was a glow, and she started to rise from the bottom. The water underneath her had a green glow, and she had an object in her hand, no bigger than a campaign button. It glowed with an intense light, and then she killed everyone."

There was a pause. Agent Eleven walked shakily over to the table and sat down, his head in his hands. June paused for a second, his emotions seeming to come back for a second.

"She used the water, the glowing green water. She seemed to be able to control it, whipping out long streams of it. It cut right through them. This little girl slaughtered her village. She tore them to pieces. We believe her ability was manipulating energized water. Her obeisance unknown."

The room remained quiet until Agent Eleven looked up. "You said _we._ What are you June, what happened?"

He looked back. "It would be better if I simply showed you." His eyes glowed red and a blue light came off his body. He stood up and swung his arm at his chair. Agent Eleven's eyes were wide as June's arm passed right through the thin metal. The chair remained upright, apparently untouched.

June reached into his suit, pulling out a smiley face sticker. He peeled it and stuck it onto the glass wall of the room. As he walked back, he smacked the chair. It fell over in two pieces, divided along the line that his arm had taken through the chair.

"Was that really necessary?" Decade got up and started scratching at the sticker on the glass. "That is going to leave a sticky mess on the glass!"

June shrugged. "It is better that my teammate knows my capabilities before we start to work."

"Teammate?" Agent Eleven spoke up. "Am I being reassigned?"

February nodded. "Your new codename will be November, again. You are now under Decade and mine's direct control. You will be working with March and June, as well as some other agents as a team. You will be conducting research on these Gates as a full time mission. Yes. Most of the time your research will be someone else's." She winked at him, referring to his latest mission. "I am curious to how you actually carried out this mission."

Decade did not look eager. He no doubt did not want to stay and listen to Agent Eleven's story of triumph. With a sigh, he gave up his mission to remove the residue from the sticker. He walked dramatically to the door. "I take it this meeting is adjourned. I will take my leave."

June also rose. "I will as well, come on March." The boy followed without a word.

February rested an elbow on the table. "Well lets here it."

Agent Eleven smiled. "Well after my cover was blown I decided that becoming James Bond was perhaps my best course of action, so first I engaged the ten men in hand to hand fighting, dispatching them all within half a minute."

He continued on his elaborate story, bending the considerably. March looked up at June as they walked out the door. "He is not telling the truth…"

June let out the smallest smile. "I bet you saw the whole thing up close. I would not worry about it, no one takes his stories seriously; at least no one did when he worked with me."

A short brunette walked through the busy office. The office had recovered quickly, trying to bounce back from the break in. She walked into the main office on the floor, handing a piece of paper to her supervisor. He looked it over quickly and glared at her.

"So you are quitting then?"

"It's too much sir. After what happened, I- I can't go back to normal. I'm sorry. Good bye sir, it has been good." She walked out of the office before he could object. It was a quiet ride down the elevator and a lively cab ride. Her driver was a talkative fellow, and their conversations made the ride go by fast. He dropped her off at her house before driving off. She walked inside and immediately locked the door, heading towards her house phone, her secret house phone that was hidden in the basement, connected to the secure MI6 network.

"Code in Delta Gamma Seven Two Zero, Agent Tigress." She still smiled at her absurd nickname. Why did her supervisor insist that they all used cats for their code names? A smile came over her face, at least now she was done with her paperwork. Her cover job was an absolute bore, now at least she could take some time off, maybe hit up a bar or two.

"Agent Tigress, good job. That was some excellent work there. You are free and clear now correct? You handed in your resignation?"

"Yes, it is done." She was smiling, imagining the cold martini already.

"Good, I don't even know how you managed to phone us so quickly after Agent Eleven's cover was blown."

"I just hid underneath a desk and dialled sir. I did almost get caught however, the guards moved very quickly to try and find him. I'm sorry I could not give you any more information after that."

On the other line the MI6 agent smiled. "You found out the location of the computer server, that's good enough for me. Have a good few days off there Marissa. Don't party too hard now." He said with a teasing voice.

She laughed, "What happened to code names there? And thank you, I will have fun, I just can't promise anything about the partying though."

That got her boss laughing. "Good night then. I will see you when you are back."

Marissa giggled to herself, putting down the phone. She quickly changed into a fluffy bath robe and turned on her bath, letting the water get hot. She was about to disrobe and jump in when a noise made her stop

The doorbell rang, loud and ominous. She cursed quietly, tying her robe around her waist again. She hurried down the stairs as the bell rang again.

"Coming! I'm coming just CALM THE HELL DOWN!" She flung open the door angrily.

Outside the door was Johnson, the contractor that was working with the company. Her mouth went wide as she hurried to slam the door and hurl herself to the side. Just in time it seemed, as an intense white light tore through the door, blowing wood across the room. Johnson walked in, expecting to find a bloody mess no doubt. Marissa wasn't going down that easily though, she grabbed the vase of flowers beside the door and smashed it on Johnson's head. His eyes were wide for a second, but he just laughed, rather than falling to the floor.

"My obeisance is to break objects over my head. I will admit that it can be rather painful, but you do get used to it. It would seem that I will not have to do that though, you have already done it for me, leaving me able to strike agai-" He grunted midsentence as Marissa delivered a swift kick to his groin, dropping him to his knees. She dashed out the door as another burst of white light blasted even more of her house away. Part of the roof caved in however, raining debris on Johnson. She barely noticed though as she ran for her life. Outside her house, her taxi driver from earlier was still there, however the handgun in his hands made her realize that he was not what she had though. She closed the distance quickly, jumping up and delivering a smashing head butt to the taxi driver's nose. He fell back onto his taxi, sprawled out on the hood. Marissa thought he was knocked out, and started to get into the car.

She jumped into the right side door, before realizing that the keys were no longer in there. The thought of jumping out and retrieving them crossed her mind, but seeing the taxi driver getting off the hood and pointing the gun at her managed to change her mind. Her eyes widened as she noticed Johnson climbing out of the rubble of her house. She flung herself sideways, the bullet meant for her head wizzing overhead. Then the burst of white light hit them. The car was flung sideways, catching air before it connected with the road again, rolling multiple times before coming to a stop in her neighbor's yard.

She slowly opened her eyes, blinking as blood streamed down her face from a large cut in her forehead. She would definitely feel that in the morning. The front window was a crumpled mess, so she simply kicked through the crumpled glass. She was glad she did when she got outside. The whole right side of the car was a charred black colour, with a charred corpse literally fused to the metal. So much for that cab driver, he was sort of cute too. She stumbled out ungracefully, acutely aware of her head wound, as well as the fact that her bathrobe was open and looking ragged. With a sigh, she pulled it shut, tying the cloth belt tight. She could still feel the cold air on her back though. One hand reached back to find a large ragged hole in her robe and fresh bright red blood. The heat from the blast had blown through the window, grazing her back as she was huddled across the front seats.

"Damn…" She muttered as she hurried away from the scene. She looked back at her house, the last place she had seen Johnson, but the tall white fence hid it from view. She grimaced at the ragged hole in it, aware that her neighbor, old Elizabeth, would have a heart attack when she saw her yard. That would have to wait though. She limped past to the other side of the house and to Elizabeth's small hatchback. She smashed in the window, winching at the cut on her elbow. The car started with an electrical whine as Marissa accelerated quickly, the electric motor humming. Careful to not make too much noise, she drove out of the subdivision, cruising down the road. If only she had her cellphone. She checked the rear view mirror before turning down an alley. No cars followed. She let out a breath of relief as she pulled over to a payphone. Luckily, old Elizabeth had some cash stashed in her car. She phoned into MI6, entering her personal code several times.

"Hello, this is Marissa VanderZee…Agent Tigress; code Delta Gamma Seven Two Zero. No I do not have time to wait this is urgent. Thank you, I need immediate extraction."

June drove down the street at a rapid yet safe speed. The few seconds gained by reckless speed were not worth the possibly deadly accident that happened all so often. March was sitting beside him.

"Can you find her?" He asked, barely looking over.

"I need a light." His face was blank.

June flipped on the cabin light on the roof. March reached up and touched the light. "Yes, turn left here."

June wretched the steering wheel hard, his wheels breaking traction and squealing sharply, leaving black rubber on the road.

"I wouldn't mind if you let me know a bit sooner-"

"Left."

June yanked the emergency break, sending the car sideways into another street, a quick punch of the gas brought the small Mini Cooper in line.

"As I was saying-"

"Stop."

The car squealed to a halt. June looked left and noticed a blue spectre on the street light, and a bloody woman in a tattered pink bathrobe underneath it, as well as three rough looking men surrounding her. They turned to stare at him as he got out quickly.

"Hey, you want to get some too? We can share." The one man said, obviously drunk and full of bad intentions. The gun in his hand was dangerous enough though. June step forward, his eyes already glowing. He lashed out, arm swiping at the man with the gun. He aimed a sideways kick at another man before swiping with his other hand, connecting with the third. Both of then men collapsed into two pieces. The man's eyes were wide as he saw his partners in a pile of blood.

"Looks like I'm in time, Agent Tigress." June said calmly, reaching into his suit and pulling out two stickers. He quietly peeled them and stuck them onto the pay phone. Then he reached down and grabbed the third man. He held his head with one hand and slammed his palm into the man's nose with the other. The man's cartilage broke, and was driven up into his own brain, killing him instantly.

"Why not use your powers, contractor." Marissa said, her eyes narrow.

"I can only do it once with each hand, before my obeisance overcomes me. Either way, my contractor abilities are not my only ones." He looked at her. "I will add that despite looking rough, you are a very beautiful tonight." A small smile was on his face. "Come on lets go."

She gave him a look. "I didn't know contractors could even make jokes." She did get into the car though, very slowly. The wound on her back had stopped hurting with this second burst of adrenaline.

June just smiled, "Who said I was joking. Let's get you back to MI6." He looked over a March. "This is March by the way. My codename is June. You can call me Juan if you wish though." He started driving, going at a much more careful speed than before.

"Marissa, my name is Marissa." She slumped back into her seat in the back. "Please excuse me if I am not up to much small talk, I have had quite the night."

**Closing remarks: Well there it is, part two is up. I will be going over and fixing any typos tomorrow, at which point i will remove this message.**

**I hope you enjoyed it, i regret that I could not fit Oreille in this chapter, I still don't know exactly what she should be like before the events of the Heaven's Gate War. I am open for ideas, as well as a decent french name that could be her real name.**

**No Agent Eleven, or as he will soon be called, November Eleven, does not have hit contractor powers yet. I apologize if anyone was bored by the rather long dialogue at the start, but the setting does need to be set. Next chapter will have much more November 11 and Oreille. I don't know how many people have noticed that something is strange with Amber, but that will be explained, probably in the author notes for the next chapter, as MI6 is currently not aware of her contractor powers, nor her obeisance. Do not worry, all will be made clear. (In typical DTB fashion, by being vague and mysterious.) **

**Thank you for the reviews. I really have to thank those that reviewed my last story. You really motivated me to get this chapter typed up.**

**Ps I am still looking for interesting ideas for other characters and their background. All ideas are welcome. Original contractor powers and original obeisances are also welcome. Ideas of how Darker than Black characters spent their days before the season are welcome. I really appreciate it.**

**Thank you for reading, and until next time.**


	3. The Spy Games

"So you are telling me that even with your freaking SUPER POWER you couldn't even stop a unarmed woman?!" The large man screamed, the fat on his neck jiggling.

Johnson stood stoic. The truth was, even though he was a contractor, he still felt like his pride had been wounded. The woman had been quick; she had barely even flinched when he had blown in the door. True, she had seen him use his powers during the break in. He paused, deep in thought, ignoring his boss's screams.

"You knew she was MI6. That information would have been useful. A trained operative acts much different than a normal woman. Withholding that information was not wise, and it cost you your chance to kill her."

The man's face when a bright shade of red, and not from embarrassment. "You dirty piece of shit!"

"I am merely saying that the blame for this cannot be placed solely on me."

The man paused. "Get. Out… GET OUT OF HERE!"

Johnson walked out of the office. The other man's reaction was typical of anger; however his worth would insure his continued employment. Still, Johnson frowned at the thought of having to work another day with that insufferable fool. He walked calmly down the hallway, heading towards the staff parking. A noise to his left made him pause in the parking structure.

"Looking for a new job? I heard your boss is a pig." An elderly lady was seated on the hood of a car, a young man, no older than nineteen stood beside her, with a head of white hair that matched hers. The lady had a harmless, almost coy smile that seemed better fitted on a younger woman. Johnson looked them over quickly. He had no intentions of giving up a good paying job with protection benefits. Aiming at the duo, he released a blast of energy.

The woman smiled; her eyes red. The white light stopped and turned a dull blue shade, as did the entire world around them. The woman remained an orange shade. With a flick to the forehead, her partner gave a jolt, turning the same orange colour.

"Thank you, let's make this quick." He said, scampering behind Johnson and placing his hand on the man's head."

"Let's give him another shot, kill him if he tries anything." The woman said with a smile as the world turned a familiar shade of color.

The blast ripped into the parked cars, throwing them end over end. Johnson's eyes went wide, first as he noticed the woman about ten feet to the left, and the other man's hand on his head.

"Easy there champ, I believe that you underestimated us, as I did to you. Try that again and you will die." The young man's eyes were already glowing, ready to strike.

Johnson felt a twitch of fear, but his face remained emotionless. "I have no choice evidently. Who are you?

The woman opened the door to a white hatchback as the boy pushed him into the back. She jumped into the driver's seat before pushing the pedal to the floor, the front wheels squealing as the car shot down the parking structure. Already there were some workers that had heard Johnson's blast and had ventured to investigate. They were too late however, as the car had peeled out of the bottom level of the parking structure.

The woman looked through the rear view mirror. "I guess you can tell him now."

The white haired young man started talking. "We work for the Syndicate."

Johnson's eyes were wide. Not the Syndicate, the mysteriously group that had struck viciously at the super powers of the world before the Gates had appeared. They had led a campaign of cyber hacks, economical attacks and physical confrontations that had thrown the Countries into disarray. Britain had been hit hard; with many of its government owned corporations were suddenly taken over, bought out or crushed by competitors. Countries like the States were not so lucky. Bombings on the White House and Pentagon had killed the President as well as much as the leading men from the country. They were rumoured to have secret agendas ranging from taking over the world, to creating robots to take over the world. Most of these stories were false; however there was no way of telling which of them were.

"I see you have heard of us." The smile on the woman's face was almost auditable. "We have much to talk about; your new job starts tomorrow."

The trio that walked into MI6 hardly looked professional. The woman was covered in dried blood and burn marks, and what looked like a pink bathrobe. There was a man, equally bloody, although his black suit hid most of it. There was also a Brazilian boy, wearing a simple red shirt and lacking any debris on it.

June walked up to the front. "Where's February?" His voice was level, despite his appearance. The woman muttered something about grabbing a cup of coffee. June grabbed her shoulder softly.

"No. Infirmary first. March will bring you a cup. How do you take it?"

She gave him an odd look. "One cream, two sugar." There was a small pause. "Thank you." With another look, she limped towards the agencies infirmary.

A somber looking blond woman put down a phone before answering June. "Agent February is out. We are not aware of her location at the moment. Would you like me to give her a message when she checks in again?"

June swore under his breath. "She's a senior agent. When did you last see a senior agent check in?" He glanced at his watch. "I will see her before you ever do. Thanks for the help." The woman gave him a strange look.

"Come on March, we have a coffee to make. I need to find Agent Eleven or someone."

"How did the mission go?" A man stood across the room.

"It went well. The target was resistant as ever, but the mere mention of the Syndicate brought him down a level." The woman in the corner of the room had a scarf wrapped around her hair, a pair of diva glasses over her eyes.

"I don't see why you have to dress like that. You are here after all."

"I do like to remain a bit mysterious. It's hard when you are my age." She let the spectacles drop; her bright amber eyes were more alert than normal. She now looked like a woman of about sixty five, or a sixty year old that had had a rough time.

"Might I add that you are looking healthy?" His smile was cold.

"We were almost killed by Johnson. Not to mention by the staff. Several times. I hate using my powers carelessly, but it was important to recruit Johnson. He has a very important job to do."

"Well, should you get your little minions on their new job?"

February gave him an unamused look. "I believe we have picked up a new member. It would appear that Johnson messed up on his latest assignment for the Cooperation."

The uncaring look on the man's face was rather disturbing. "I am not sure why you like to call them that. They are a Corporation, if anything. Research shows that they are just a small company that has started dabbling in things they shouldn't."

February gave him a chilling look. "You underestimate them. Already they have done more than just dabble. In another age, they were known as the Cooperation, a group of like minded companies that joined together to make a force equaling our own." Her smile widened. "That is exactly why we should destroy them right now. There will be some off the books operations of course; I trust that you can sweep those under the rug?"

He snorted. "You seem to be the Queen of Off The Books, and I appear to be the King of cleaning up. Just remember that you do not run the Syndicate." His look was harsh.

"And neither do you." February's smile had a fair amount of ice as well.

The man turned away, "Don't let Decade know what is going on. He still doesn't know you are working for us does he?"

February shook her head. "No, it would appear that only two people in MI6 know who I work for."

That got the man's attention. "Well I know. Who is the number two?"

"That is for me to know, and you to not find out. Goodbye Gerard." She winked at him before prancing out of the room.

The black night was his friend; however the neon party lights were definitely not. Agent Eleven, or rather Agent November as his supervisor preferred to call him now, walked calmly down the alley, his black hoody and jeans making him look more like a local drug dealer than an Agent.

"Check in, Agent November do you copy?" A female voice, and a rather young one at that, came in over his earpiece.

"Why do you have to call me that? What was wrong with Agent Eleven? Is our supervisor really that fickle about matching codenames? And who is this? I don't recognize your voice."

"This is Agent October, I'm new. And yes, I do believe that she would do something like that. If it really is bothering you, how about I call you something like November Eleven? Would that suit your fancy? Really, I sometimes wish that I only had to work with contractors."

Another voice cut in. "All lies! You hate our kind! You are the racistest of all racists!" June's voice boomed over the radio. That made November chuckle a bit. It seemed that June had recovered a bit of his personality lately. November still was slightly shaken by his first reunion with his old partner. There was still something supernaturally freaky about the whole contractor thing. Maybe it was still too soon, after all, they had only been around for two years. It didn't help that most information was kept from the public. Rumours only swirled around more, and became even more inaccurate.

A door in the alley suddenly opened as a drunken man stumbled out, vomiting on the opposite wall. November caught the door before it closed, slipping in.

Back at the London branch, Agent June was typing fiercely at his computer. While he used to hate office work, it really did not bother him now. A safe, warm place to work from, and a significantly higher survival rate seemed much more important than the adrenaline rush that often came with field work. He turned over to February who was seated beside him.

"Are you sure that they have the information here? I can understand a large company using their technology to study Heaven's Gate. A small night club seems out of the question."

February looked over. "Do you doubt me? Is it because I am too old? Of course I am sure. If you did your homework, you would realize that this nightclub is owned by an Arthur Pensworth. Our sources tell us that his brother, William Pensworth, has been taking over company after company. He is the manager of the company that November broke into."

"And a night bar would be less obvious place to hold a super computer as well. Yes, I understand." He turned back to his computer. "Are you sure it was wise to send Mariss-I mean Agent October out into the field again."

The look that February gave him was unsettling. Why was it that she was always either giving a disturbing smile, or staring with those soul searching eyes?

"Oh, I would almost think that someone was a bit worried."

"I am a contractor ma'am."

"I am well aware of what a contractor can and cannot feel. You cannot use that as an excuse not to consider what your feelings are." Her stare seemed to bore right into her. "Keep it professional June."

He did not even give that statement a nod to show he had heard it. What she was hinting at was ridiculous. Although, ever since he had met November again, his emotions had started to become stronger. It had brought back those memories, first of that horrible day, the last day before he left his humanity behind, but also the memories of the life before, the man that had existed before the Gates.

"Do believe it? That we really are soulless unfeeling creatures?"

February thought for a second. "No. I have seen even dolls acting on emotion. A man discovered that the Lancelnopt Synchrotron Radiation from the Gate is very damaging to the primal brain when a Contractor becomes one. It is not uncommon for it to shut down in certain cases, leaving the Contractor unable to do simple tasks such breathing, leaving them to suffocate. It becomes less active to protect itself from the radiation and chemical changes in the brain. After time and suitable stimulation, it does start working more. Hypothetically, there would be a point when the brain would technically be the same as before it was exposed to the Radiation. I know better though. The damage is permanent, and while a Contractor can become capable of feeling a large amount of emotions, their brain will never be the same as it once was." There was a look of sadness in her eyes. "I know this from experience."

June was silent. "I see. Why did you call it that though, Lancelnopt Syncrotron Radiation?"

She looked blank for a second before she realized it. "Oh, I guess old Lancelnopt has not gotten that far with his research yet." Her generic smile was back in place. "My bad."

Getting in was a snap, but wearing a trashy black hoody in a fancy night club made him stick out a little. November frowned, wishing that he could be wearing his classic suit right now. A discreet look over his shoulder revealed a large man following him. He at least had a proper suit. He took a turn by the back door. There were less people there. The man followed of course, no doubt ready to deal a harsh punishment of fists and blood. British lads always did have an emotional streak, but from November's experience it was usually the French men that became angry over things like fashion. He paused by the door to the alley. Then he turned to the man who was following him.

"And what might your name be, kind sir?"

The man was stunned, probably from November's lack of fear. He stammered out a quick answer, "Uuh, Pierre…"

Definitely French. November smiled, and then slammed his fist into the man's chest, just below his rib cage That knocked the air out of him. November's knee was there to catch the man's falling head, knocking it back up. A swift head butt ended the confrontation quickly. Then it was just a small push, and the man fell towards the door, pushing it open. He tumbled outside as November shut the door quietly. There, one obstacle out of the way. He paused for a second, an idea forming in his head.

Five minutes later, the French guard, minus his keys, weapon and his expensive French suit jacket, was lying outside in the cold. A sharper dressed November on the other hand was slowly making his way closer to the back room. A familiar person however made him freeze in horror. A woman is a low cut red dress blocked his path. There was no way that she should be here. The woman from the office gave him a smile. He was stuck to the floor, watching in horror as the woman walked straight towards him. Shouldn't she be acting surprised? Had she known that he would be there? If so, then she definitely was not a normal office worker. She had to be something more. Was she a contractor?

"Easy there November 11." She winked. "May I ask where you got that amazing suit from?"

He paused for a second, before realizing it. "You must be October then, I recognize your voice." He gave her a good looking at, his eyes drifting down, then back up.

"Easy there, tiger." She did not seem disturbed. "Although it does make you blend in better. With the rest of the perverts here."

That made him laugh. His smile was sincere. "So what are you doing here?"

"I'm backup. So get back to work. I am going to enjoy the party." She smiled before walking away.

He continued walking until he got into the back of the club. Another man in a similar suit gave him an odd look, but did not bother to stop him. Soon, there was no one around, leaving a long dark hallway.

Out in the middle of the club, Agent October took a sharp breath. No, why was he here? A large bald man had walked in, obviously having a sharp conversation with another man. Behind him there were more men, dressed in sinister black suits with visible bulges that were not from overeating.

"Alert. William Pensworth is here. Repeat, Pensworth is here, and he is not alone." She spoke quietly into the radio on her wrist, disguised by a large flower. It didn't help. One of the men in suits obviously recognized her from her time undercover. His eyes when wide, his hand reaching into his jacket.

"Cover blown." October muttered into her radio as she walked rapidly into a crowd of people, disrupting any shot. It did not work that well though, as the man fired one shot into the air. Half the people instantly dropped to the floor in fear, a quarter were started screaming and running. The other quarter stood frozen; unfortunately the group that October belonged to. This made her an easy target.

The next shot would have been through her head, but the shooter was momentarily stunned by a tray of drinks that flew at him as a waitress rapidly tried to move out of the line of fire. That pause gave October enough time to dash past the other patrons and throw a table over. The next shot burst through the wooden table about an inch from her head.

With a curse she bolted from her shelter. Where were these bulletproof tables that Hollywood used so often? With a quick breath, she bolted from her cover, squirming past the others in the club and headed to the door. "If you haven't already gotten out, either get moving, or get this done quick!" She yelled into her radio, meaning it for November 11.

"Keep going November, October on the other hand, you need to get out and start running. Down the street there will be a blue Renault waiting for you, the keys are in it. Give them a little chase and stay alive." February's calm voice came over the radio. "We believe information was leaked on October.

Back at the booth, June had put his headset down and was looking very intently at February.

"You sent her as bait."

February has an expressionless face. "No. Information was leaked. A mole from the Cooperation evidently made it close enough to figure out our mission. I honestly did try to get to him before he sent the information, but I was too late. Stopping him now saved your life." She paused for effect.

"But now you still want November to carry on."

"Well yes. I said that information was compromised didn't I? I never said WHAT information was compromised. Until today, November was never officially on the team, despite briefing him extensively. In the primary report, October was the only agent that was supposed to be in the club."

Her smile was back, but with a note of caution in it. June noted it.

"It would seem that you are treading on cautious ground with me?"

Her face had even more caution in it. "I know what you are capable of. There have been other times that I have lost your support. Things did not go well. I need you June."

Despite the words, June did not take any comfort. He merely nodded. He did not understand the total extent of February's power, but he knew enough. If she was doing something a certain way, it was because it had to be that way.

"I am not sure why you are keeping your ability a secret, but I assume you have a reason."

February gave him a sharp look, no doubt to keep his voice down.

Back at the bar, a cold sweat had broken out over November. He had heard the message, not to mention the screams and gunshots. He hoped Agent October had gotten out, but from his position he did not even want to risk talking. Armed men had rushed past him, quickly opening a room, then closing it after checking that no one had tampered inside the room. That luckily gave him a direction to head in. It was a simple matter to sneak into said room and activate the computer. The program on the memory stick would do the rest.

"November, while you are there, look for portable hard drives in that office, as well as the one across the hall." February's voice cut in again, causing November to jump up abruptly.

"As if I wasn't doing enough already…" He muttered before starting to tear apart the room, quietly of course.

Despite February's carefree nature, infuriating smile, and general mysteriousness, her information was good as always. The blue Renault hatchback not only was unlocked, but was even running. She popped the clutch, peeling away from her parking spot, trying to gain as much ground as possible before the men managed to get into a vehicle. She swerved around a slow movie electric car.

"February. This was not a coincidence. They were there, they were armed and they were ready. You have a security issue."

"Agent October, we are aware and have dealt with the security breach. Just worry about getting out of there. I am currently tracking your position through the cars security system."

June's voice came over her earpiece. She gave a sigh of relief at not having to deal with Agent February. Things would be easier if GPS was still working, but any chance of that had been crushed two years ago. Society had managed, an elaborate system of tall towers managed to transmit information across the world. It was no match for satellites, but there was not much anyone could do but accept it.

"You're tracking me? What are you planning to do?" She answered, riding up on the curb to pass another car, and then swerving back onto the road to avoid a parked car.

"Just you wait. Also, I believe you might have some new friends."

She looked through the rear window. A black SUV was gaining fast. It sideswiped a van, sending a spray of sparks as it blew past. A man was starting to aim a gun out of the window.

"Damn." With her eyes on rear, she almost rear ended another set of vehicles, screeching to a stop, on the side walk. The black SUV was not so quick however, and it plowed into the cars that had stopped at the stoplight. The man that was about to take a shot was now a much greater distance away, evidently having been thrown through the front window. The other man must have had his seatbelt on, but even an airbag hadn't stopped him from smacking his head pretty good. October did not let her mind stray to the fates of the civilians in the cars that were hit. She shifted into first and took off, ripping around a corner on the sidewalk, nearly clipping a few pedestrians.

The dark booth was stereotypical, but it did get the job done. February sat, drinking from a light orange drink, looking across the table at the two women that were seated there. A short elderly lady, who looked even older than February spoke up. "It would appear that you didn't foresee that security breach then?"

That made February blush. This woman really did everything. It was a good thing though, if she hadn't contacted February, the mission would have been a disaster. It was only with this woman's help that she had managed to feed doctored information to the mole.

"I'm curious to how you explained it to MI6, or better yet to the Syndicate."

The blond woman beside the old lady spoke with a small grin. "I also wonder how you are making out with that Agent Eleven. He seemed like a real smooth talker."

February gave a look. "You know Agent Eleven?"

"Not well, I helped him a bit on the burglary. Actually I ended up crashing a taxi and making a mess, but we did make it out alive." She gave a small wink. "No, back to the real question though."

February sighed. "I really don't use my ability as much as I make others believe. I have the Syndicate thinking I have everything mapped out perfectly." She closed her eyes with a small smile. "The truth is you guys have given me as much help as anyone."

"Well of course, LesYeuxs are always here to help." The old lady answered with a smile. "We really do owe you though. Your information helped us a lot. We are simply repaying the favour."

February smiled. "Tread lightly you two. There is no such thing as neutrality in this world. You must either show the world that you are a big enough force that they will not cross you, or simply keep it quiet until you do." She finished her drink.

"If you can find out how the Cooperation will react to our little expedition, I would be very grateful."

"Shouldn't you be watching over that? I thought that mission was happening today?" The blond girl said with a surprised look on her face.

"It's in capable hands." She answered, unconcerned. With that note, she smiled and walked towards the door.

The old lady turned to her companion as February left. "We are playing a dangerous game here. Supplying all sides with information will only lead to anger. Whatever happens, we do need to stick to February for now. After all, we are useful to her. That will be our protection, our usefulness."

"You bee the eyes and I'll be the ears." The blond woman answered with a smile. "I will start snooping on the Cooperation, but our doll networks are far from perfect."

The elderly woman smiled. "Oh, look who is taking charge! Well well, I am proud of you, my little Oreille."

The woman sighed. "I may be your ears, but that doesn't mean I have to be named it. Why couldn't you call me something beautiful, like Neigh? I would love to be called Snow, maybe Snowflake." She smiled to herself thinking of the possibilities.

"It appears that I was wrong, you still have a lot of growing up to do." The old lady muttered, her hand on her head.

**Closing Remarks.**

**Well, now you know who the blond woman is, a much younger Orielle!**

**No, November is not a contractor yet, but someday...**

**Thank you all readers, you have heard my rants and begging for reviews so i will not do so again, but thank you for reading.**

**Notes. LesYeuxs is french for "The Eyes" just like Oreille means "ears" in french.**

**Now, an explanation on Amber, or at least part of one. Her powers to reverse time appear to take more of a tole than simply pausing it, so she does have to use it sparsely. This means that while she has a much better idea of what is going on, she is not omnipotent, and has to rely on Good Old Spying, just like everyone else. **


End file.
